The Last Curse
by Moonflower-Aura
Summary: Read and find out! Although the first chapter is sort of funny this is not a humour story. Enjoy!


The Last Curse

Disclaimer: I am not J K Rowling, therefore I did not come up with any of these characters or settings on my own (sigh)

Author's Note: This is my first ever fanfic. Please read and review.

Smoking Moustaches and Mystery Notes 

It was a boring day, one of those days that seemed to draw on forever and that meant that summer was coming to an end. It was too hot for even children to be outside; the heat spread across the roads and fields like a tidal wave.

The second last day of summer holidays.

Harry Potter, the legendary Boy Who Lived, sat on his bedroom floor in the small house that was number four, Privet Drive. He could hear his mad uncle shouting at a poor telephone solicitor as he looked through a Quidditch Tips book that his friend Ron gave him last Christmas.

_When flying at an altitude higher than 350 feet, it is a good idea to grip your broom tightly in your right hand while keeping your left up at your waist to prepare yourself for oncoming Bludgers or Quaffles._

"Now what makes you think I want to buy your bloody electricity plan?! I think I can bloody well manage my own electricity!"

_Bend your knees and keep your feet locked tightly against your broom if you are doing a dive to catch the Snitch. This way, there will be less air resistance on your body and you will be able to travel much faster._

"I think it takes a lot of nerve for you to ring me up and tell me that my home has shoddy electricity! Do NOT try this number again, do you hear me? _Good day_."

Harry could hear a phone slam downstairs and heard Uncle Vernon stomp his way to the couch and turn on the television, all the while mumbling about "those Markswood Electricity morons." All of a sudden Harry was immersed in darkness as the power went out. He rolled his eyes and stood up to open his curtains and let the evening light shine into his bedroom. Uncle Vernon was cursing downstairs. So much for being able to manage his own electricity.

Aunt Petunia came out of the bathroom, having just had a shower, and tied her bathrobe around her waist. She looked around in the evening light and made her way downstairs. Harry, sensing some rare entertainment in this house, stuck his head out of his bedroom door and listened carefully.

"Vernon, dear, what are you doing? I don't think you should be trying to fix anything. You remember what happened last time…"

"Oh, this isn't like last time. Must have just blown a fuse. Don't worry, Petunia, I can handle this."

Harry listened as Uncle Vernon fiddled about in the fuse box. He heard an unpleasant crackling sound and his uncle swore loudly. Harry crept out of his room and crouched at the top of the stairs so he could watch this charade as well as listen.

"Vernon, you're going to hurt yourself. Let me just call the electricity company and get someone to come over."

Uncle Vernon continued to fiddle with the fuse box, although his bushy moustache was slightly smoking. "Oh, no, dear, it's quite alright…er…I think I've got it! Yes, that should do it." He put his tools down and turned around triumphantly.

"It's still dark."

"Well it will take a few minutes to get going again."

There was a long pause. Harry tried not to laugh from his spot at the top of the stairs. He was supposed to be up in his room, pretending he did not exist.

He saw Aunt Petunia move towards the telephone on the coffee table. "That's it. I'm calling a professional to do this." There was another pause, and Uncle Vernon was squirming on the spot.

"Hello, Markswood Electricity? Yes, my power just went out, must have blown a fuse…Thank you…Petunia Dursley…Yes, Dursley…I live at number four, Privet Drive, and…" Harry saw his Aunt pull the telephone away from her ear and grimace. She slammed the phone down and looked questioningly at her husband.

"Ah…anything wrong, dear?"

"The man at Markswood yelled at me! Something about a practical joke? Vernon, what is he talking about?"

"Well, interesting story, see…er, I was just…"

As much fun as Harry was having at the top of the stairs, his attention was quickly diverted when he heard three swift taps on his bedroom window. He recognized the taps as coming from his snowy owl, whom he had been secretly letting out for evening roams since the start of summer vacation. Harry scrambled into his room and opened the small window. Hedwig gracefully glided into the room, a bit of rodent tail still dangling from her beak.

Harry was just about to close his window when another owl entered his room. Compared to Hedwig's majestic manner and poise, this owl was a bit on the scruffy side, its grey feathers sticking up at odd angles. Harry had never seen this bird before, nor did he recognize the writing on the envelope attached to its leg. Harry took the letter from the bird's leg, and stood close to the window to read it, as it was still dark inside his house. It looked as if it had been quickly scrawled and folded. The creases were uneven and the writing was messy.

_Harry, _

_Diagon Alley. Tomorrow. Midday. _

The note was unsigned. The handwriting, upon closer inspection, did seem vaguely familiar to Harry, as if he had seen it before, but it definitely did not belong to anyone who wrote to him on a regular basis. Harry wanted to send a reply to the writer of this mystery notes, but the owl had already left when he turned back around. Harry pocketed the note. He had been planning to meet up with his best friends, Ron and Hermione, in Diagon Alley the next day, and he wanted to show them the note to get their input as to who could have sent it.

Harry looked around his room. All of his school things were neatly packed in various suitcases and stacked in one corner and his bed was made. He guided Hedwig into her cage and looked at his watch. Seven-thirty. Time to go.

Harry didn't want to bother his Aunt and Uncle, who were still bickering. He dragged his suitcases downstairs and out the door. He left his bags outside as he went back up to his room to get Hedwig. After he got the owl he stopped in the living room.

"Right then, goodbye."

Aunt Petunia said a quick "goodbye" to Harry, and Uncle Vernon merely grunted before the two got back to their argument. Harry left the house and dragged his things to the end of the driveway. Standing on the edge of the road he lifted his wand in his right hand, flagging down the Knight Bus. It was only a few seconds before a loud cracking noise resounded and the purple triple-decker bus emerged, rounding a corner at an awkward angle.

The bus screeched to a halt in front of Harry, who lifted his things on before stepping on himself. The doors closed behind him and the bus started moving away from Privet Drive. Harry didn't look back. He was in the wizarding world once again.

A/N: So what do you think? Who is sending these mystery notes? You'll have to wait to find out! Although this chapter had some funny parts (I try!), I want this to be a somewhat serious fanfic. Please review!


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